


He'll Need a Name

by dixophilian



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-13
Updated: 2014-12-13
Packaged: 2018-03-01 07:03:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2764067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dixophilian/pseuds/dixophilian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Tell me you didn't."</p>
            </blockquote>





	He'll Need a Name

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a silly, little thing.
> 
> But I noticed a "glitch"/"best feature ever" where sometimes a dragonling will follow the Inquisitor around after its mother is killed. There's only one logical conclusion to such a saddening, semi-cute scenario, honestly.

"Tell me you didn't."

The Inquisitor can't say she expected Josephine knocking loudly on her door this early in the morning. She was tired; weighed down by a deep exhaustion that sunk into the bones. And though she wanted to ignore the knocking, she knew that rhythm and she knew the hand that made it.

She'd be damned to ignore Josephine. Anyone else, sure. But never her.

"I didn't?" The inquisitor scratches her horns. "Though, to be honest, I probably did. What did I do?" Now she's rubbing the sleep from her eyes and Josephine is all but plowing her way past the threshold and making her way upstairs. Adaar closes the door and follows only to startle when Josephine squeaks. Was she frightened by something?

Oh.

 _That's_ what she did.

Adaar moves to stand beside Josephine, a comforting hand instinctively placed at the small of the woman's back. The human won't budge, won't utter a word. But at least she's still breathing. Lying at the edge of the Inquisitor's bed is a dragonling. It's dark eyes glisten as it sizes up Josephine, as if discerning whether she is being presented as food or not. The Inquisitor's posture changes immediately, dominant, yet subtle and the creature understands. It slips from the bed and approaches, confident in its display.

He will be a hard one to tame, she notes.

"I did," Adaar finally relents, before stretching out a hand for the dragonling to nuzzle with its snout. She steps away and Josephine wants to reach out and pull her back, but the Inquisitor's stride is long and she's out of reach too quickly. She makes for the closet and pulls out dry meat which she drops for the predator as though she was giving it to a Mabari.

"Why?" Josephine whispers, barely audible as if her voice would encourage an attack.

"The High Dragon I slayed was his mother. He followed me, the poor thing. I couldn't leave him."

"It's a dragon!" Josephine is hissing through her teeth.

"-ling," Adaar corrects.

"For now."

"For now." Adaar approaches Josephine and pulls her over to the bed. Lazily, she uses her body weight to force Josephine down as she wraps an arm around her lover and nuzzles into the crook of her neck. "And for now, I wish to sleep." And though this usually comforts the ambassador, she goes rigged when the dragonling joins in, laying its weight against her. Adaar laughs when Josephine groans and repositions herself so that she's pressed tightly against the Inquisitor's chest.

"He likes you," Adaar teases as the creature adjusts to snuggle against Josephine's back. "He'll need a name."

"Stop."

Maker, how did she end up sandwiched between two horned giants on a small Free Marchers' bed.


End file.
